


Pretending I Don’t Notice That You’re Gone (But God, I Miss You)

by trixafaerie



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hale Family Feels, M/M, Mother's Day, POV Stiles, Pre-Slash, Stilinski Family Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-12
Updated: 2013-05-12
Packaged: 2017-12-11 15:31:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/800282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trixafaerie/pseuds/trixafaerie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mother's Day is great, unless you don't have a mother to celebrate with.</p><p>Stiles is missing his mom and realizes that he and Derek have more in common than he would have thought.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pretending I Don’t Notice That You’re Gone (But God, I Miss You)

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry if this is a bit jumbled, I haven't slept in two days and I'm posting this without a re-read through (not like me!) because it's 6am and I need to try and sleep a bit, possibly. Will probably go back through it and add bits here and there, if it needs it? Basically was inspired by this by my hatred of Mother's Day ads everywhere and missing my mom.

Stiles sat with his back against the wall, knees brought up against his chest as he played the tape over and over again in his dad’s old Walkman. He hadn't been able to find anything else that would play a cassette tape, they were all but obsolete at this point, even the stereo in his Jeep was a CD player and Roscoe was older than he was. The tape looked innocuous, it had his name on it and that should have been his first clue, that it was his given name and not Stiles, even though the handwriting was not hers, his mother was the only one who always refused to call him Stiles. Since she had died, no one else was allowed to call him anything but Stiles, it hurt too much. He knew his dad wasn't aware of the tape, partially because he would have given it to Stiles had he known and also because his mother claimed as much, saying she was hiding it in the back of the bookcase and assumed he would find it when he needed it most. The logical part of his brain supplied that there was no magic involved in it, he was merely bored enough to go through the study looking through the wall-to-wall bookcases to see if there was anything he hadn't already read. He hadn't been sleeping at all this week, catching a few hours here and there to just keep upright but otherwise he was just doing his homework, researching obscure paranormal stuff, and reading anything he could get his hands on as a means of escape. 

He had found a really old book of fairy tales that looked interesting and after pulling it off the bottom shelf, he heard something fall – the cassette tape he had already listened to twice already. Just hearing his mother’s voice again after so long was a shock to the system. The first time he listened to the tape he hadn't even heard a word she had said, just listening to her voice triggered so many memories that he had sat down where he stood, shocked beyond belief. The second go-round he listened closer, tears falling as he forced himself to breathe and not succumb to the panic attack that threatened to overtake him. He just missed her so much, it was a constant ache in his chest, a feeling like there was a gaping hole where his mother should have been. Life went on, he pushed his feelings to the back burner to deal with the everyday, but it was always there in the background. And then something unexpected would happen, or something would remind him of her, something he wanted to share with her and he couldn't. She was never able to teach him to drive like she promised, she was going to miss his graduation, she wasn't around to talk about college or possible careers or the fact that once again he had fallen in love with someone who didn't feel the same. 

Stiles laughed a bit, the sound hollow, remembering running home from school in third grade and telling his mom that he was going to marry Lydia Martin. She had always indulged his dreams, helped him plan ways to win her over, she figured there wasn't anything he couldn't accomplish if he wanted it bad enough. Of course wanting it bad enough made no difference when it came to making his mom healthy. Deaton kept trying to get him to read things, talked about how he had a spark, that his belief was a highly valuable thing, but Stiles wasn't sold. Sure, he had strangely had enough ash that night at the club, but what good did being a spark help him when he was kidnapped by Gerard? When the alpha pack first showed up in town and thought it was funny to hurt the human who was stupid enough to have a bunch of werewolves for friends? He idly wondered what his mother would say to werewolves being a thing that existed in his daily life. 

As if summoned by thought alone, Derek opened his window and slid inside, turning to see Stiles on the floor on the other side of his bed. Stiles was sure he looked as wrecked as he felt, eyes red and wet, cheeks splotchy and red as they always got when he was upset. “Why are you sitting on the floor?” Derek asked him awkwardly, as if that wasn't what he was originally going to say.

“It’s comfy over here. Did you need something?” He asked brusquely, trying to deflect out of habit.

“It can wait. Are you... alright?” Derek asked, face suspiciously blank. He knew a lot of people, even those close to them, that thought that Derek was emotionless, but Stiles knew better. He too always had a mask on so he recognized it in other people. If anything else, he would say Derek suffered from an excess of emotion and just went with the ones that were easier to deal with – like anger – as a default, like Stiles went for sarcasm and jokes to avoid talking about serious things. 

“Yeah I’m fine,” Stiles said automatically, knowing that even though it was a blatant lie, he had told that lie so well for so many years that even Derek’s superior werewolf senses wouldn't be able to tell for sure. Sure he could infer things from Stiles general appearance but that would require Derek to actually care enough about Stiles to notice such a thing. “If it’s not life or death, whatever you need researched will have to happen at the library, I’ve got plans today,” he said with a shrug to his shoulders. 

“That’s… okay,” Derek nodded, looking awkward and unsure of what to do or say, which made Stiles laugh because the look was at such odds with his general leather-clad Alphaness that it just seemed strange. 

“Okay well, I need to shower so rain check?” Stiles asked, standing and putting the Walkman on one of the shelves in his headboard before walking towards the door of his room. “You can let yourself out, yeah?” He gestured towards the window before heading towards the bathroom and taking a long shower that was just on this side of too hot, brain a million years away.

**  
Stiles hated Hallmark and everything it stood for. It was all a gimmick, everyone knew it but had to play along anyway. He just wanted to stop at the small local grocery in the center to pick up some flowers, he didn't need to be accosted by signs everywhere asking if he had gotten his mom something special for Mother’s Day, there were cards and candy and gift-wrapped baskets on display by the checkout aisle, it was sickening really. Did your mom really care if you spent $5 on a card, when you could make one instead? Why was it necessary to have a special day where you had to spend a ton of money to show you cared when you could (and should) do that every day in simpler ways? Sometimes when he was feeling particularly bitter, he wanted to scream at Scott not to take his mother for granted. Stiles knew he could call his best friend today, get him to go with him or get Scott to help distract him but for all that Scott was sympathetic, it was really hard, because he hadn't been there. Scott’s father left but it was more of a relief than anything else, so it hardly compared. Stiles knew that the store – the town, the universe- were not out to get him with its propaganda, but it just seemed like it in his current emotional state. Grabbing the brightest tulips he could find, he paid and drove out to the cemetery. His mom always said that flowers were silly, but she couldn't help but love tulips so Stiles always brought some when he came to visit her grave. 

He wished his dad was here with him, that this was something they could do together but after the first year without her they mostly went their separate ways. His dad was often busy with work and he didn’t like to talk about her lest he lean too heavy on the whiskey bottle again and Stiles eventually had gotten a handle on his panic attacks. It wasn’t that his dad forgot, he knew that was practically impossible for him – hell, he still wore his wedding ring-- but he wasn't sure what to do with Stiles more often than not. He knew his dad loved him more than anything, they tried hard to spend time together, to talk about what was going on in their lives, but especially lately it had been hard. Stiles had to lie so often to his dad that it got depressing to spend time with him, knowing that, putting on a front with the most important person in his life. He was sure his dad didn't believe him half the time and it was worse when he didn't even call Stiles out on it anymore; that he had come to expect everything but the truth from his own son.

Kneeling on the ground before her grave marker, he cleared some of the overgrown bits away from the base, placing the flowers gently as his fingers traced the lines that carved the cool stone. Beloved wife and mother. As if that adequately described everything about his mom. He remembered her when she was well, so full of life and energy that everyone just wanted to be around her. She was innately curious about everything, something he could relate to, but she used that and her genuine kindness to reach out to people. Stiles tended to be awkward at best, his father was fine with talking to people in an official capacity but socially wasn't much better. With his mom, she was the one to be social, meet the new neighbors, find out things about people in their small town and try to help wherever she could. Nobody who met her could do anything but love her.

He must have sat there for some time because before he knew it, the sun was disappearing behind the trees. Getting up and stretching the kinks out of his legs and back, Stiles got into the Jeep with only the briefest glance back to the grave. Driving towards the gates of the cemetery, he noticed a familiar dark-clad figure on the other side of the cemetery, where the older graves tended to be along with a few mausoleums. Turning right instead of left, Stiles parked next to Derek and hopped out, walking silently over to the older man sitting on the step to one of them. Glancing up he noticed the name Hale on top and thought, of course. He felt bad for not having realized that he wasn't the only one missing his mother, today of all days. Derek had no family of which to speak of at this point with Peter gone, at least Stiles still had his dad. “Hey,” Stiles said, sitting next to Derek, bumping his shoulder against the other man’s. Derek nodded once in greeting, seemingly content to just stare off into the distance, a silent but warm presence beside Stiles. 

By the time the dark was settling over them, Derek stood abruptly and reached a hand out to help Stiles up. “Let’s go to The Pie Hole,” he said without preamble, letting himself into the passenger side of the Jeep. Stiles let out a short laugh, climbing in on his side and driving back to town. He put the radio on low to fill the silence for the short ride over, though it was companionable more than awkward which was a new thing for Stiles. “Thanks,” Derek said simply when they were seated in one of the booths at the tiny diner.

“No problem, I never turn down pie,” Stiles laughed, trying to lighten the mood as always.

“This was my mom’s favorite place to go,” Derek said quietly, fingers pulling absently at a loose thread on the sleeve of his Henley. Stiles nodded because he understood why Derek wanted to come. They ordered pie and ridiculous sounding coffees, swapped stories back and forth about their moms, their childhood antics, whatever came to mind. It was nice to have someone who understood, the circumstances might be different but they had both lost their mothers younger than they should have. Derek paid the check and they walked back out to the parking lot. Before Stiles could open the door to the Jeep, Derek put his hand on Stiles’ shoulder, pulling him closer and enveloping him in a hug. Stiles was too shocked to do anything but stand there. “Call me if you need to talk,” he said before disappearing off into the night. Well, today could have been a lot worse.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to add me on [tumblr](http://trixafaerie.tumblr.com)!


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